"She's not dying!" Well, maybe she was. Yumiko had no idea. "Just . . . she's different, ok?!"

"Geeze," Tsubasa winced. "Defensive, are we? Come on, let's leave them be." Tsubasa grabbed Tori by the wrist and pulled her away. Tori appeared conflicted as the two went over to the nearest wall and sat down together. Tsubasa shot darts with her eyes at Yumiko, clearly annoyed.

Yumiko mouthed an apology at Tsubasa but her best friend just rolled her eyes and looked away. A long exhale escaped Yumiko's lips. Suddenly a weight pressed against her right shoulder. Looking over she found the ghost, face buried into the shoulder of her uniform, quivering. "Umm. . ." Yumiko slowly reached up and gingerly placed her right arm around the girl. The touch only made her shudder more. "Are you . . . dying?"

"Al-al-bi-no."

No? Well that was good.

A voice called from her left. “Are you saving a spot for someone?”

Turning to look up, Yumiko found a bright smiling face looking down at her. “Kawamura Kiroku,” the teen bubbled, bowing so quickly her hair tumbled over her eyes. She chuckled and straightened. “But everyone calls me Kay-Kay, ‘kay?”

The girl’s enthusiasm seemed over-the-top. “Okay.”

“What’s your names?”

“Kajika Yumiko, and . . .” Yumiko turned to look at the ghost. The girl remained with her face firmly planted in her shoulder. “Introductions did not go well.”

“Uno Shinko,” the ghost murmured softly at last through Yumiko’s uniform.

“Ah, nice to meet you two, Miss Kajika and Miss Uno.” Another energetic bow. “Hmm! Two new friends. This requires a picture, ‘kay?”

“I-I guess I-?”

Before Yumiko could fully answer, Kiroku abruptly held up a black boxy object adorned with several silver metallic buttons and a glass porthole directed at them.

“You have a-“

Click.

“Great! Very natural. Good emotion.” Kiroku smiled as she turned a knob on the top of the box.

Shinko continued to cry softly into Yumiko’s shoulder, oblivious that her unbecoming image was now preserved. “Y-you have a camera?” Yumiko asked, staring wide eyed at the gadget. Kawamura’s parents clearly were rich.

“Of course, I do! How can I be a good journalist without one? When I develop the picture, I’ll be sure you two get to see first it before it goes in my book, ‘kay?”

“Your book?”

“Mmm-huh. We’re at war and someone needs to record all the ‘mazing things that we accomplish while in the Fourth Special Labor Corp. Besides, if you don’t take a picture, it didn’t happen!” Without warning the teen unslung her sea bag, setting it at her feet before taking a seat on Yumiko’s left side. Camera set aside she spread the bag’s flap open and hauled out a thick homemade book comprised of heavy construction paper, spiral sewn into the shell of a former encyclopedia. Flipping it open revealed page after page of photographs mounted by their corners, taped to the heavy yellowing paper. “I document everything. You two are going to be the cover for my next chapter, ‘kay? I’m looking forward to photographing all the scenery on the train to Wakkanai.”

“Wakkanai,” Yumiko asked. “Where’s that?”

“Not from Hokkaido?” Kiroku chuckled to herself and flapped a hand. “Oh, that’s right, I heard most of you are coming from Southern Honshu. I’m probably the only one here who’s a local. This must be all pretty daunting for you.”

In the distance, the sound of a train horn whistled through the artificial canyon of dock side buildings.